I don’t know about you, but I’m not one for watching sports on TV.
Oh, sure, if the Bears are on, I’ll watch a few minutes of grown men trying to give each other concussions. And I watched the Cubs when they won the World Series, although I learned how to multitask during the five minutes between pitches.
Garbage men filling their trucks is more exciting than a cadre of men dressed like a Land’s End catalogue scooping up swaths of dirt from manicured fairways.
You wouldn’t know it to see me now, but I played sports in high school. The boarding school I survived had 92 students, so if you had a heartbeat, you wore a uniform on game day. I played hockey, tennis, lacrosse and soccer. Or, rather, football, European style.
Because I was overweight, the coach played me at fullback where the least amount of running was required; my bulk made it hard for the other team’s forwards to get around me. Just standing my ground earned me a letter.
When I heard about the big game at FIFA’s World Cup Championship Contest (or whatever it’s called) between the USA and Iran, I was all in.
After all, I had a personal history with Iran.
In December 1980, I was invited by first lady Roselyn Carter to a gathering of poets at the White House. All the big names you recognize showed up to read: James Dickey, Gwendolyn Brooks, Richard Eberhart, Robert Hayden and others.
Leaving the reception, my wife and I gazed at 50 fir trees strung with blue and white lights lining the lawn, one for each American hostage held in Iran.
Today, another crisis plagues Iran. “Mahsa Amini, who was arrested by the morality police for wearing her hijab too loosely, took her last breath days after she was taken into custody in Tehran. Authorities said the Kurdish woman suffered a heart attack, but fractures to her skull and the bruises stamped across her limbs told another story, prompting the outcry” (chicago.suntimes.com 10/14/22).
Women protested vociferously in the streets at the risk of severe punishment. Protests worldwide supported and encouraged the Iranians.
Before an earlier soccer game, Iranian male players refused to sing their national anthem. Having been warned of retribution when returning home, most lips moved to the words before the USA game, but with the apparent puzzlement of a first grader remembering the words to the Pledge of Allegiance.
The American players needed a win to move on.
I watched the game on our biggest TV screen, expecting to work on my laptop, write Christmas cards and feed the dog, but ended up watching every kick, header and faked injury. I screamed “G-O-A-L” when we (I was now a team player) scored, and during the last 10 excruciating minutes I got up and walked around, finding food in the refrigerator I hadn’t seen since Halloween to nervously munch on.
The win was bittersweet. Yes, I would have been devastated had we lost. But the Iranian players, losing (in score only), but presumably in concert with the Iranian people, frustrated and angered over restrictive Islamic Republic’s policies, faced unimaginable consequences coming home early.
Both teams played with finesse, dignity and conviction. Each player stayed true to his goal – performing the best he could for as long as he could, even offering downed players a hand up.
If only divided America would live up to the same credo: not hogging the ball, not questioning the score, not belittling the other team with lies, insults and threats of violence.
That’s the kind of sport and sportsmanship I’d watch 24-7.